Peace and hope
Being a slave back then, was hard. Being an Afro-American in a white community was hard. Being a friend of a Afro-American wasn't as hard, but was pretty hard. Falling in love with that person? Wasn't even accepted. Those rules I broke, I don't regret. Those damn rules, I didn't care about. Those tiny stuff that people annoy you about, I didn't care about. All I cared about what that I was happy. It was a Saturday. I was out in the backyard, climbing up ol' Willow, my mother's tree. "Duncan!" my mom shouted, "dinner's ready!" I scurried down the tree. Sweat trickled down my forehead. I was panting heavy sighs. "Duncan!" my mom shouted again, "dinner's ready!" "Coming!" I shouted back. Several friends passed by. They stopped at my gate. "Hey Duncan! Did you hear?" "What?" "There is a new family in our neighborhood. I heard their black". They snickered. "Uh okay, and?" "My mama says, that they are dirty creatures". I bit my lip. That wasn't true. I have met some black people. They are quite nice. But I wasn't going to argue. I didn't have time. My mother's voice cut the air. "Duncan, come here right now!" "Better go before your mama has a fit". They snickered and left. I gritted my teeth. Why did I even consider them as "friends". They were just a bunch of mean baboons. Not to mention, them being the typical American white boy. Ugh. I washed my hands and sat down at the table. My mom served my food. "Now, eat" she ordered. I picked at my food slowly. I sighed. "Ma" "Yeah?" "Are blacks dirty?" My mom sighed. She knew this was coming. "Honey, they just aren't like us, that's all". I shot right out of my seat. "''Aren't like us? ''Mom, you're terrible". "Hon, they are different, that's all". "They are human!" "You sound just like your father!" "Mom, they ARE human". "Yeah, but their black". "We are white, what difference does it make?" "Honey, you don't understand". "''What? ''What don't I understand?" "Don't talk to me like that!" "Well, you're being unfair! The blacks are just as human as whites". "No, they ain't". I blinked. I knew my mom grew up in the South, which is why she probably thought against the blacks. While my father, who grew up in the North, accepted them, just like me. He had colored friends, and he worked with them. I stormed upstairs and slammed my door. I sat on my bed and looked out the window. Then I saw her. The most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on. She was definitely mixed, with curly hair up in a ponytail. She was wearing a white and blue dress with high socks and nice, shiny shoes. She looked at our yard and up into my window. We locked eyes. Then she turned on her heels and ran in the other direction. I wanted to say something but then remembered I was looking at her through a window. I closed my mouth. Damn! She was mighty pretty. I looked away and I caught myself staring at my own reflection. I had my mom's dark brown hair and my dad's blue eyes. I studied myself head to toe. I didn't consider myself attractive, even though my mom tells me everyday "you are as handsome as your father". Scoff. Compared to other boys, I wasn't that handsome. Just average. That girl I saw though. She was pretty. Like a flower. I sighed. One day, I would talk to her and confess. I just saw her, but she was pretty. And I cared. Oh boy. When my father came home, it was a big party. That night, everyone was quiet. He never says when he comes. I don't know exactly what he does at work. All I know, he works for the military. Mama always refuses to tell us what he does. Me and Jackie, my younger sister, always wonders. We were seated at the dinner table, waiting for dinner to be served. There was a knock on the door. "Jackie, please go and open the door". We had to stop our game of "poke the sibling" and I watched as Jackie got up and opened the door. She gasped. "Father!" My dad's cheery voice echoed inside the hall. "Jackie!" I ran to the door and jumped on my dad. He was in his military uniform. He laughed. "Not you too". "DADDDDDDYYYYYYYYYYYYY" yelled Jackie, "you're home!" My mom emerged from the kitchen and rapped her arms around my dad's neck. They kissed. When mom finally pulled away, she said "why'd you home so late". "I had to do some wrapping up at camp", he said, "it took sometime. And wait! We have guest!" Me and Jackie peeked outside. Sure enough, there was a family. About a five-some. The funny thing was the dad was black. Dark complexion. And the mom was white. Huh. Okay, it wasn't strange, but I wasn't used to it. The kids were all light skinned brown, all well dressed and cleaned. The eldest, who I was assuming was my age, was a bit taller than me. He looked stronger and more confident,straight back, jaw high. He was wearing a shirt with a bow tie, light brown pants and a hate. The middle child (I presume), was shorter than her brother. I realized it was the girl I saw earlier. She changed to a more formal outfit, dressed in a dress with a white top and light brown skirt, which matched her brother's pants. She had long socks with equally shiny shoes and her hair was tied in a bun, with a bow. She didn't have a hat but a nice, shiny necklace on her neck. The youngest was a girl too, maybe around the age of 8, with a matching dress to her sister. She has to pigtails, each with ribbons, and she wore the same socks and shoes as her sister. But instead of a necklace, she wore gloves, white gloves on her tiny hands. The mom was dressed in a white top, long light brown skirt and gloves too. She wore a hat. The father's outfit was the most interesting. He wore an all light brown outfit (included the tie), and dark brown shoes. He had a hat. "Hello" he said, cheerfully. My mom was staring at them then at my father, then at them. She forced a smile. ''Why, hello" she said, in a false cheery voice. "Come in!" boomed my father. The family entered, happily. The table was set for our usual 3, minus my baby brother, who was fast asleep. My mother and father were having a silent argument in the kitchen, no doubt my mom not happy about the unexpected guest. Jackie nor I were dressed for the occasion. "Hi", I said "I'm Duncan". "And I'm Jackie" said Jackie. "Well hello!" said the white woman, "I'm Helen and these are my children, William (the boy waved), Jeanette (the eldest girl waved), and Marie (the youngest girl nodded)." "Hi" Jackie and I said in unison and shook all of their hands. When I shook Jeanette's hand, we locked eyes for a second. Then, with a red hot face, I moved onto Marie. The siblings looked similar. The eldest and youngest looked like their dad. Jeanette though, looked like her mother. They had the same nose and same eyebrows. They both shared the same hazel-green eyes. They both were breath-taking beautiful. "Right!" boomed my dad, "let's eat!"